Stars
by sophomoric genius
Summary: One could enter the City of the Dead and live. But never to tell the tale. Chapter Four up!
1. Prologue

**Stars**

by sophomoric genius

**Type:** Originally a one-shot. Now turned into an on-going short fic.

**Disclaimer:** Although the plot and characterizations are mine, Ragnarok and all other components of the game is copyright Gravity and Lee Myungjin. Any similarities with other fics are purely coincidental unless stated otherwise.

**Rating:** PG-13 for death themes and slight cussing.

**

* * *

PROLOGUE**

She was not particularly beautiful. In fact, she was rather ordinary looking. Her chestnut colored hair and hazel brown eyes could easily be lost in a sea of faces that crowd the streets of Prontera. But there was something about her. Something that made her image a permanent fixture in my mind. Something that made me, an apathetic assassin, fall in love.

I first met her at a hunting party. We were both novices then on our first combat training. Their team leader invited me to join their party. I was actually more of a lone wolf, but knowing that crossing the Training Grounds filled with countless of monsters armed with only a novice blade would consume excessive time and effort, I decided to accept the invitation. Partying was the fastest and easiest way out of the Novice Academy, and I was eager to head back home and begin my training for assassinhood.

She was not one of those irritating girls who scream at the sight of a Roda Frog. Neither was she was one of those few power-hungry girls killing every monster their eyes catch. She was doing her fair share of fighting, occasionally wincing upon a Chon-Chon's sting, yet steadily thrusting her blade towards an enemy. Nothing out of the ordinary. She did not need my help, nor did I need hers. I barely even gave her a second look.

Several years later, we met again. I was a thief-turning-assassin by then, and she, an acolyte. I was passing the great desert on my way to Morroc City when I noticed a rather nasty sandstorm moving towards my route. I decided to stop over the nearby oasis and let the sandstorm pass. Besides, the sun was incredibly hot on my back, I was tired, and my water bottle needed refilling.

I was a stone's throw from the oasis when I saw an acolyte on the other side, holding what appeared to be a falchion.

_Acolytes are not allowed to wield daggers, let alone swords._

I chuckled. I've been through this desert a hundred times, but it seemed I still was not immune to mirages.

_And a weird one at that. An acolyte with a falchion. Heh._

Then I heard a scream. It was not of fear, but rather of an attack. The acolyte from my mirage suddenly jumped to life, her falchion high in the air.

_What the…_

I walked faster towards the palm trees, quite certain it was no mirage, and yet refusing to believe it was real. After barely a few seconds, the acolyte was thrown back, her real, shiny falchion landing a few steps from my boots. It was only then that I saw what it was that she was fighting. A Sandman.

I took out my fire stiletto with an excited grin. In an instant, I was in the air, staring at the hollow eyes of the desert ghost. With speed and accuracy to match an assassin's, I repeatedly plunged my weapon into the monster's body. Ordinary weapons would simply slide through the grains of sand that make up the Sandman's form. But the fire element in my stiletto ignores this mechanism and instead, slices directly through the monster spirit underneath the sand, causing grave damage. I had the Sandman down in a minute.

With a satisfied smirk, I walked back to the oasis, not even glancing at the girl acolyte as I passed her. I knelt by the water, scooped a handful and splashed it on my face. It felt good. I reached for my water bottle and lowered it to the spring.

"I know you."

I turned my head slightly and caught a glimpse of the girl. She had long, wavy chestnut hair. Her eyes were downcast. She stood up and walked to where her falchion was strewn and picked it up.

I turned back to my water bottle and brought it to my lips. After a few big gulps, I lowered it back to the water. She was now sitting beside me, her now-sheathed falchion between us. She lowered her hands and splashed a few handfuls of water on her face herself.

I looked at her and finally saw her hazel brown eyes. I knew I've seen her before but I didn't remember when and where. And I didn't really care.

"Acolytes are not allowed to carry swords," I muttered, standing up. I recapped my water bottle and placed it on its holder on my belt. I looked back towards my route. The sandstorm was showing no signs of easing up. I walked under one of the trees and sat down.

The acolyte remained silent for several minutes. She turned to me and repeated her statement earlier. "I know you."

I shrugged. "I don't care."

She continued to stare at me, apparently unnerved by my stoicism. "You are going to become an assassin, right?"

Silence.

She looked at the sword beside her and bit her lip, deep in thought. She was quiet for a few minutes. Suddenly, her eyes returned to pierce mine. "Will you teach me? I'll pay."

I frowned. _Teach her what? The ways of the assassin?_

"You're an acolyte."

Her brows furrowed. "No. It was a mistake." She shook her head fervently. "A big mistake."

"You can't be an assassin," I told her simply. The sandstorm is moving away. In a few minutes, the route will become passable again. I stood up and prepared to leave. "You've already chosen your path. Go pray for world peace or conduct a mass or serve God or whatever it is that you do."

"There is no God," a fierce, bitter voice answered me. "I learned that the hard way," she followed with a whisper.

I scoffed. "You realized it too late." I turned around and started to walk away.

"I want to kill, Janus."

The quiet resolve in her voice and her mention of my name stopped me in my tracks.

"I want to kill people. I want to kill the people my parents swore to protect. I want to kill the people who killed them."

Slowly, I turned to face her. Her hazel eyes met my gray ones squarely.

I have met a lot of evil people in my life. People who enjoy killing. People whose eyes light up at the sight of suffering and death. Heck, I was raised by one. Until I killed him, that is. Their intent and manner of killing may differ, but they have one thing in common. Their eyes. No matter how some of them try to maintain a blank expression, to bottle up the joy death of another by their hands bring to them, their eyes betray them. Others hold only but a flicker, but most positively radiate with malevolence. Pure, unbound evil.

Hers held none of the sort.

Yet.

Yes, her eyes were cold and hard. No doubt, she could kill someone if she really wanted to. But it was not evil that compelled her. It was anger.

"How did you know my name?" I asked her indifferently, my eyes still locked on hers.

She shrugged, smiling lightly. "I told you I know you."

I frowned, trying to recall.

"The Novice Academy. We were partymates."

"Hmp."

She stood up and walked up to me and offered her hand. "My name's Elise. Elisabeth Marie Gatmaine."

_Gatmaine. So that's why she's so mad._

I stared at her hand. "You can't be an assassin." I turned and started walking away again. "Too good."

My last two words seemed to enrage her. "Did you even hear my name? Do you know who I am? You have no right to tell me I'm 'too good'. My parents _died_ because they were 'too good'. I've had enough of this bullshit!"

I snorted and continued walking.

"My parents were--"

I rolled my eyes. "Two of Midgard's finest Paladins. I know."

She was quite taken aback for a couple of seconds. _Only_ for a couple of seconds. "They tried to protect those people! They risk their lives every single day to fight for them! And this is how they repay them! They--"

I cut her off in mid-sentence for the second time. "They? Don't you mean _he_? It _is_ King Tristan III that you want to kill, right?"

I turned and looked back at her. It was not only her voice that was filled with rage. She was literally shaking with anger.

"They fought his battles for him. They carry with their bodies the battle scars that ought to be his." Her light brown eyes bore through mine. "And yet he shunned them when they needed him the most."

She stopped short. Slowly, she shook her head. "No, he didn't shun them," she corrected herself. "He killed them. He didn't even do it himself. He ordered his troops— including the very troops my father used to command—to kill them!"

"It was rumored that they faced Loki himself. That was how they became Undead. Instead of defending the city, they attacked it."

She shook her head furiously. "They could've been saved! There are ways to save the Undead…"

"I heard some tried to exorcise them, but it didn't do any good."

She fell silent. She closed her eyes and dropped to her knees, hugging herself.

I didn't know why I even bothered continuing the conversation. I could simply have walked away, as I originally intended to do. But there was something about her that made me stay.

Perhaps it was pain.

And the nagging memory of myself, aged seven, seeing the lifeless body of my mother, with my father holding a bloody katar.

"What kind of God would allow such a thing?" she whispered. "They had such strong faith in Him. Why did He fail them?"

"I don't believe in God."

Slowly, her eyes traveled upwards to meet mine. The hazel brown orbs that were filled with wrath seconds ago were now sad and pleading.

They were pleading for me take away all the hurt and anger; they were emotions so foreign to the girl that prolonged exposure to them was bound to turn her into some sort of psychotic killer—like my father.

They were pleading for me to shake her back to her old self: a cheerful, optimistic acolyte pursuing her childhood dream of becoming a priestess.

They were pleading for me to restore the faith this young acolyte girl used to have with her God.

But how was I supposed to do that when I don't even believe in God myself?

Subconsciously, my hand went to one of the small compartments fastened on my belt. I opened it and took out an old rosary with silver beads and a small, silver cross. I stared at it for a while, memories of the past I have long forgotten flooded in my head. I walked back to the girl kneeling weakly on the sand. I sat beside her and handed her the rosary. She eyed it warily.

I sighed.

"When I was young, a High Priestess gave this to me. She told me that things happen for a reason, even the bad ones. We might not understand why it should happen, and we may never will, but God intended it to ultimately make us a better person. What to make out of it, and how we would emerge from these trials is entirely up to us. We become who we choose to be. If we choose to wallow and drown ourselves in sorrow and bitterness, then we become just that: sad and bitter. But if we choose to swim instead of drown, to stand up and continue on after a bad fall, then we become stronger with the experience. If we choose not to loose ourselves in the midst of the crisis, then we come out of it with our soul intact and our faith stronger than ever."

She was gaping at me, drinking every single word I said. I reached for her hand and placed the silver chain in it.

"I don't believe in God," I told her, standing up. "But I do believe that our choices determine our destiny. You could choose to kill the King of Midgard. It's your choice. But remember that the battle is not between him and you. It is between good and evil. Between mankind and the rising forces of Loki." I started walking towards Morroc City. "You are a good person. Don't let it destroy who you are."

I was walking for around thirty minutes when suddenly arms flung around my torso, clutching at my shirt. I felt her tear-stained cheek press against my back, muffled sobs erupting from the bowed head. I looked down and saw my silver rosary on her right hand.

"Thank you," I heard her whisper in between hiccups. "Thank you."

We've met several times after that incident. She became a priestess, and I, an assassin. She sometimes helped me with my missions from the assassin guild. She has saved me from certain death more than once, but she brushes this off, simply declaring that II/I was the one who saved her.

Maybe she's right. Maybe I did save her life that day in the great Morroc desert. But she did even more for me. She gave me back my life.

I became an assassin partly because it was in my blood, and partly because no other job could maximize my abilities of stealth and speed. But most importantly, I became an assassin to isolate myself from others. I always kept my distance from people. I was careful not to let anybody get too close. I was afraid of caring, of loving someone. I was afraid of becoming vulnerable. Of having the possibility of getting hurt. Or worse. That I would turn into my father and hurt the very people I love.

But she changed all that.

That day in the desert, she made me realize that I am not just some inanimate object made up of flesh and bones. That I have feelings just like everyone else does. And that it was okay to feel. To become angry. To cry.

I fell in love without meaning to do so. It felt nice and warm. It made me feel human again. She became my star, guiding me in my darkest hours and making me believe in heaven.

Of course, she could never know how I feel. Nor could I expect her to return my love.

Irony of ironies! All my life I have been shielding myself from situations wherein I could be emotionally hurt. Yet here I am now, loving someone with all that I am, knowing she could never love me back. And, it was actually _me_ who brought her back to her faith!

But I would never have it any other way. Not if it means her sacrificing her beliefs for me. For she would not be the woman that I love if she wasn't Mother Elisabeth Marie Gatmaine.

I would never give up loving her, though. Not in a million years.

o0o

**Author's notes:** Made this in one sitting. I don't know if it's any good, so please leave a comment, whether it be good or bad. Please tell me if I made some grammatical errors, or if you found it hard to read and understand. I really want to improve my writing. Thanks for reading and hope you liked it!


	2. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

"Oh, shit."

The girl froze. She closed her eyes, an expression of resigned frustration slowly spreading across her face. She heaved a huge sigh and opened her eyes, her rich emerald orbs drinking in the boisterous scene surrounding her.

Prontera is undoubtedly Midgard's busiest city, and today was no exception. The streets were packed with people: loud merchants with their attractive carts, shoppers in search of a good bargain, lovers simply strolling around, families enjoying some quality time together by gaping at the curious objects some adventurers were selling. A bard with a couple of dancers was providing some entertainment at one corner. A group of rowdy teenagers were hooting and catcalling on the other. Beggars lined one side of the street. A little girl was selling flowers on the far end of the road. A pet groomer was positioned right smack in the middle.

There. She has found her culprit. With a groan, she limped towards the nearby bench and slumped down. In one swift, agitated motion, she took off her right boot and flipped it to its sole.

Glaring angrily back at her was a huge hole.

She turned her attention back to her right foot. Slowly, she turned the underside of her foot to face her.

Yup. There it was. The warm, gooey poo of a poring. Or was it a poporing? Gah, it didn't matter!

Her deep green eyes traveled back to the pet vendor, blissfully unaware of the predicament one of his cute little monsters brought to the girl. There was one rather violent eye twitch, a suppressed growl and finally another heavy sigh.

The girl snatched a piece of paper littering the ground. After wiping the poo off her foot, she crumpled it and threw it back, hitting a certain sun-kissed blond head. She stared mournfully at her wretched boot, reminiscing the long journeys she had with it.

"Ey there, missie," a voice called from behind her.

She turned around and saw herself looking at a large merchant with a mane of thick black hair tied at the back of his head, his voice a little too high-pitched for his build.

"I see your boots are quite worn out," he nodded at the shoe in her hand. "I have a lot of those, you see." He pulled out a pair of boots from his cart. "Pure, authentic leather! Hunted down the freakin' Argiopes myself!" he beamed, handing her the pair.

The girl ran her fingers through the rich leather. It was soft in the inside, smooth and tough on the outside. The soles were thick and strongly bound.

"Why don'tcha try it on?" the merchant urged her enthusiastically.

It was a perfect fit. The boots were so flawlessly beautiful, the girl almost cried.

"For only thirty thousand zennies! Is that a bargain or what!"

"Thirty thousand!"

Now, her tears were for an altogether different reason. She gingerly took the footwear off and handed it back to the merchant.

But the merchant only laughed. "I see you're no novice with this, eh! Fine…Twenty-five grand!"

The girl only sighed defeatedly.

"No? Twenty-three K?"

She shook her head.

The merchant was starting to get impatient. "Alright. Since you're my first customer for the day, I'll give you my biggest discount yet. Twenty thousand zennies. Now that's a total rip-off!" He flashed her a huge, toothy grin.

"You don't understand…" With an embarrassed smile, she took out her coin purse and pulled out a wad of bills. "I only have six hundred zennies…"

The merchant's smile died on his lips. "Six hundred…"

"Six hundred and thirty-two to be exact." She looked longingly at the pair of shoes before handing it reluctantly back to the merchant. "But they _are_ lovely…"

The merchant held on to the footwear for a minute, a thoughtful look on his face. All of a sudden, he grabbed the pair of boots out of the girl's grip, laughing a little too loudly. "My, my, little missie…you're good, very good…I have never brought my prices this low, but _you_ are a force to reckon with…the best bargain-hunter I've ever seen…"

The girl only gave him a blank, open-mouthed stare.

In one quick move, the merchant seized the girl's coin purse and emptied it on his hand. "Six hundred and thirty-two it is!"

"What the…" The unsuspecting girl looked from the man's stubby fingers holding the money, to her now-empty hand, and back again. "Hey! Wait a minute!"

But the merchant merely shook his head, shoving a box at her. "You don't have to thank me, missie. A pretty girl like you deserves only the best!" He flashed her a winning grin before dashing off with his cart.

"Weirdo," the girl muttered, staring incredulously at the disappearing cart. "He took all my money with him, too." She sighed. "Well, at least I have my boots…"

She opened the box and nearly dropped dead.

Instead of the handsome leather boots that she had worshipped earlier, a pair of bright red, Barbie-girl plastic sandals greeted her. She stared at the pair in disbelief for a whole five seconds. "No. Way."

"You have just been scammed," an amused voice put her thoughts into words. She looked up to a pair of dancing sky-blue eyes. "Welcome to Prontera."

The boy was gorgeous. He had light blond hair with a matching pair of light blue eyes. He was tall, tanned, and although his merchant outfit covered the rest of his body, she was sure he had perfectly toned muscles in all the right places. His smug grin revealed straight, pearly-white teeth worthy of a toothpaste ad. She hated him in an instant.

"You could still use those, you know," he continued in his impish tone, gesturing at the pair of sandals. "At least it will help keep your feet off poring shit. Come to think of it, I think it rather compliments that long black cloak covering you from neck down. Adds some color to your outfit."

Her eyes narrowed. "You've been watching us all this time…you knew he was a scammer…"

The boy gave a noncommittal shrug. "He was just trying to sell his boots. But when he realized you didn't have enough cash…well…"

She nodded her head in silent understanding. "Merchants. They're all the same." She took off her other boot, placed it beside the red sandals, then stood up and started to walk away barefooted.

"Hey, now, come on, that's not fair," he picked up the boot with one hand and the boxed sandals on the other, and started to follow her. "Don't generalize. We're not _all_ scammers." He glanced at the tattered footwear and noticed that it, too, nursed a perhaps smaller hole. He threw it over to a nearby beggar. "At least _I'm_ not."

She grunted. "Right."

"Why don't you wear your new sandals? You can't possibly walk around Prontera with your bare feet." He held out the box to her.

"I already am." She walked faster.

But he was still right at her tail. "So where are you going anyway?"

"None of your business."

"Mm…Feisty. I like that."

The girl stopped suddenly. Fumes could be seen coming out of her ears. She whipped around and faced the young merchant. "Why won't you leave me alone? What do you want?"

The boy flashed his toothpaste-ad grin. "Well, since you put it that way. I wanted to ask you out for lunch."

She cocked her head on one side with her index finger lightly tapping her chin, as if considering his offer. "Hmm…let me think…" Then she placed her hand on her hip and gave him a haughty look. "No," she replied flatly, before turning around and taking long, purposeful strides.

_The nerve of this guy! He insults me, and then he asks me out!_

The boy looked taken aback for a few seconds. "Wow. That's a first. No girl has ever declined my offer before."

"Yeah, well, with that arrogance I'm pretty damn sure it ain't the last either."

He was back at her heels. "Oh, I get it. You're using reverse psychology on me. You're trying to make me think that you don't like me so that I'll become more interested in you. Well, I'll have to admit, it's kinda working."

"You are one sick, egotistical jerk, did you know that?" She graced him with a long, hard glare.

"See? You know, you don't have to do that reverse psych thingy with me. You could simply accept my offer."

"Oh, fuck off, will you!" For the second time, she stopped walking and fixed him with agitated glower.

"Wow. Another first. I've never been cursed--"

"Just because you're cute doesn't give you the right to harass people--"

"So you think I'm cute?" He raised an eyebrow, grinning broadly.

"Argh!" The girl gave out an aggravated scream. She hurriedly fished from inside her cloak a piece of flywing, dropped it to the ground and stepped vehemently on top of it.

With a flash, she was gone.

The boy just stood there, his brilliant blue eyes still focused on the spot where the girl vanished. He chuckled softly.

"She likes me."

-o0o-

"Urgh!"

The girl shivered with disgust the moment her feet touched the cold cobblestones. She shook her head fiercely, trying to rid herself of the memory of that conceited, narcissistic merchant. When she finally opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the middle of a deserted side road, her sense of direction totally escaping her.

_Where the hell am I? _

She started walking anyway.

"Great. I have no shoes, no money, and no supplies. I used up my last flywing, and now I'm lost."

Her stomach gave a low growl.

"And hungry."

Her mind wandered back to what happened only a week ago. She remembered why she was in Prontera in the first place. Her deep green eyes took on a hard, determined look. She will turn this city inside out: walk down each alleyway, knock on every door. It didn't matter if her feet bled or she fainted with hunger. She had to find her. She'd die first before leaving this city without talking to her.

_Don't be so overly dramatic, Shanti,_ she chuckled in spite of herself. Her heavy heart lightened at the sight of huge cross a hovering unassumingly a few feet above the rooftops. _There it is…The Pronteran Sanctuary. The arrogant bastard proved to be a blessing in disguise afterall…_

Her strides grew longer and quicker, both in excitement and anticipation. The intestinal parasites that she felt earlier now turned into fully-growned butterflies. The inside of her head became nothing but a whirl of words as she tried to recall the lines she practiced every single day of her journey to Prontera.

She stopped in front of the church. Her palms were sweating, and her knees shaking.

_Why am I nervous? Relax, Shanti. You can do this._

She took a deep breath and went in.

o0o

"She's listed in…the Little Angels Orphanage," the acolyte told her, looking up from the thick records book. "That's down this street, left, then another left when you see the large red-bricked house and then…one, two, three, four, four blocks from there you'll see this small two-story building with large windows. That's the one."

"Down, left, left, four," the black-cloaked girl repeated, taking mental notes. "Right. Thanks."

The sanctuary was deserted when she entered nearly an hour ago. She searched every nook and corner of the large hall, but only dust and cobwebs welcomed her. She even went out and explored the small graveyard behind the church, to no avail. She went back in and resigned herself to the fact that it _was _lunchtime, and even men of God need to satisfy this sort of physical need. Several minutes later, a female acolyte came upon a dark-haired, green-eyed, black-cloaked, barefooted girl mournfully stroking her abdomen area.

"I'm not sure if she's there, though. From what I hear, she's always out on special assignments. She's an exorcist, you know." The acolyte walked her to the door of the sanctuary. "She's supposed to assist Father Manuel in running the orphanage but I barely even see her there."

"I see," the girl replied, the heavy feeling settling back in her chest.

"If you are talking about Mother Elise, I'm afraid you just missed her."

The two girls turned towards the sound of the soft, old voice.

"Father Manuel," the acolyte girl stepped forward to meet the old priest. She bent down and kissed his hand in greeting and respect.

"Bless you, child," the priest returned the greeting. He turned to the other girl but before he could utter a word, he noticed the girl's expression change dramatically from disheartened to dumbfounded.

"Are you following me?" Two different voices, one male the other female, asked at exactly the same time.

The merchant smirked. "Looks like it's Urd herself that's bringing us closer to each other."

The old priest's youthful dark brown eyes traveled from the tall merchant beside him, then to the barefooted, black-cloaked girl in front. "I see you're both acquainted."

They both opened their mouths to speak but the boy was first. "Yes, Father. She was the one I was telling you about earlier, you know, the one who donated that brand new pair of sandals."

"Ah, I see," the priest turned to the girl. "Bless you, child, for your generosity. But I'm afraid you need this more," he offered her the box with a tender look.

"Er…No, thanks, Father," the girl replied with a tight smile. "_Apparently_, I donated that pair and I don't intend to withdraw it. Besides, it brings back memories I would much rather forget." She glared pointedly at the boy.

"As you wish," the old man nodded. "But I can not permit you to walk around Prontera barefoot, my child. Come, I believe I have a pair of boots that might fit you. Can you walk a little more? My orphanage is not far."

"Thank you, Father, but I would much rather talk about Mother Elise."

"If she couldn't walk anymore, she could ride on my cart, Father."

The two spoke at the same time again. The girl shot the young merchant a look that could stop fire, but the boy simply gave her a smug smile.

"That is so gentlemanly of you, Brother Dryden," the priest chuckled, obviously amused. "Now, we shall talk more of Mother Elise once we put some boots on your feet and some food in our stomach, Sister…"

The girl eyed Dryden warily before she replied. "Shanti. My name's Shanti. And I would much rather walk through thorns than ride on _his_ cart."

"Suit yourself, Sister Shanti," the priest's eyes shone, clearly enjoying the scene. He turned to the girl acolyte. "Would you care to join us, Sister Maya?"

The young acolyte shook her head. "Thanks for the offer, Father, but I'm afraid I've got loads of paperwork to organize. Have a blessed day." And with that, she bowed and disappeared back inside.

"If I may," the old man ventured as the three started walking down the road. "I would like to ask how you came to know of Mother Elise. I believe her name is quite popular with the members of the clergy, especially the exorcists, but you don't seem like an ascetic yourself."

"No, I'm not an acolyte," Shanti admitted. "I heard of her a few months back, in the city of Payon."

The priest nodded with a smile. "Ah, yes. She gets called there often. It is such a tragedy, what happened in that cave."

"Where did Mother Elise get called now, Father?" Dryden asked, tugging his heavy cart behind him effortlessly.

The priest remained silent for a moment before answering somberly. "Nifflheim."

Both the boy and girl stopped suddenly in their tracks.

The merchant gave a low whistle. "Whoa. Nifflheim? I know Mother Elise's a great exorcist and all, but Niffleheim? Do you really think she could handle it, Father?"

Father Manuel continued walking. "Mother Elise has had three years' worth of training. No doubt her faith in God is strong. I worry for her safety against the evil spirits that freely roam the place, yes. But more than that, I worry that her defense against her own demons may not prove to be strong enough."

"What do you me--"

"So it's true?" Shanti asked, her voice cracking a little. "She's in Nifflheim?" Her brain and heart were already racing.

The old priest finally stopped and turned around. "On her way, yes. She left only yesterday. Is there anything wrong?"

"No, everything's perfect." Her vivid green eyes met the priest's warm brown ones evenly. "But if I am to catch up with her, I'm gonna have to leave now."

Dryden snorted. "Catch up with her? What, you're going to Nifflheim too?"

"That's exactly why I wanted to talk to her." Shanti answered the merchant's question with an irritated wave of a hand. Her disillusioned, aggravated air earlier now became brisk and sharp. She transformed from a weary traveler to a girl on a mission in a blink of the eye. She turned back to the priest. "Do you have a picture of her? What does she look like? I have to find her as soon as possible."

"Child," the priest began, concern creasing his forehead. "I'm afraid I simply can not allow you to search for Mother Elise in Nifflheim all by yourself. My conscience would never let me rest."

Shanti opened her mouth in protest, but the priest continued. "Brother Janus came looking for her just this morning. I believe he is out to follow her. It would be best if you try to reach him instead. He is unquestionably your easiest and fastest way to Mother Elise."

The girl considered for a moment then nodded. "I see. How am I to find this Janus?"

Father Manuel turned and smiled thoughtfully at the unusually quiet merchant. "If Brother Dryden would be so kind--"

"Ooh, no, Father," he immediately interjected, backing away. "Janus? I don't think so…"

Shanti's perfectly arched eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "What's this? The high and mighty merchant-- scared? I guess he isn't so great afterall."

He frowned at her from under his slightly curled lashes. "I'm not scared. He's just… odd."

"Aw…the poor little merchant boy's about to pee in his pants with just the mention of his name…" Shanti continued to taunt the boy. "It's okay, little wussy boy…you don't have to come with me. You could just tell me where to find the big bad man and I could go look for him while you stay right here, far from his evil claws…"

Dryden clenched his fists in fury. "You know what? Fine. I'll take you to him," he gritted his teeth, giving the leering girl a smoldering look.

"It's settled then," the priest declared, clapping his hands gleefully. "But before anything else, shall we proceed to the orphanage? Sister Shanti's feet needs tending to, and a bit of bread and soup is bound to soothe the stomach and cool the head."

The old priest closed his eyes walked on, the small smile on his lips masking the anxiety building up in his chest.

-tbc-


	3. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

Janus' frown was an expression that frequented his face. But this time it was overshadowed by another less common emotion. Concern.

_She left yesterday. But knowing her, she must have visited the Abbey first. She prefers traveling by foot. That means she's probably in Morroc. _

It had been almost three years since that fateful day in the great desert. He refused to admit it at first but he had grown so accustomed of her that denial of it simply proved to be an absurd waste of effort. Yes, he and Elise were friends. He had built and maintained for himself a rather thick and solid wall surrounding the soul that was Janus. He was known as an efficient assassin who soon rose up the ranks of an expert Assassin Cross. But that was as far as anyone could go. Nobody really knew him.

Elise Gatmaine was a different matter. How she managed to walk through the walls he had built, he could never comprehend. All he knows is that the priestess was able to gather up and put together the pieces of his life without him noticing until it hit him right in the face. She knew him. Really knew him.

He could faintly see the outlines of the strong bulwarks that surround the desert city from a distance. It's been only three hours since he left Prontera that morning. Usually, it would take an average traveler a whole day, perhaps even two, to reach Morroc with no breaks or stopovers. But he was no ordinary traveler. In fact, his feet barely even touched the ground. His agility increased more than three-folds when he turned into an assassin cross. Of course, going this fast consumes a whole lot of his energy, but it did not matter. He needed to catch up with her. He must not allow her to reach Umbala, let alone Nifflheim, alone.

_What was she thinking, going to Nifflheim all alone?_

But of course he already knew the answer to his question. Elise never told him directly but he knew she had always wanted to go to Nifflheim. It was the place where her parents died. Became Undead, rather. Some insist that the Paladins and some members of their team still roam the place. No one could ever truly kill an Undead.

"But you can set their human spirits free," Elise would argue. "That's what exorcism does. Or at least aims to do. Separate the human soul from Loki's evil breath. If the evil spirit has not yet completely taken hold of the human body, we could somehow drive them away, perhaps even destroy them. But for those who have been fully occupied by the devil, we could only try to purify and restore their souls so that they could face the Great Master with dignity. It's a brutal and often losing battle between exorcists and demons, but we can't afford to give up. Not when there are so many souls to save."

It was this attitude of the priestess that frustrated yet captivated him at the same time.

His pace started to slow down as he reached the city gates. He had a feeling that Elise was probably out of the city and on her way to Comodo by now. But he decided to have a look inside anyway.

The City of the Desert is not quite as packed as Prontera, but a marketplace is a marketplace and the main avenues of the city served as such for traveling merchants, albeit in lesser proportions than the Capital. Searching for the priestess in this sort of place would be like searching for the renowned treasures buried deep inside the Sphinx. But it was a little after lunchtime and Janus knew exactly where to look. He was about to disappear into a narrow alleyway when he heard his name.

"Janus!"

He stopped and turned around, his keen gray eyes immediately spotting the owner of the voice. It was a merchant with light blond hair and sky blue eyes. He racked his brain for the name that went with the familiar face, but was in vain. He waited for the boy to be within normal hearing range.

"What do you want?"

A girl materialized from behind the young merchant. She had such vivid green eyes. But there was something odd about her that he could not quite place.

"Hi," the merchant smiled nervously. "We've met before…you know…erm…Mother Elise? I'm…er…she…"

Janus folded his arms across his chest and sighed impatiently. "What do you want?"

"Right." The boy grabbed the girl's arm and shoved her brutally forward. "Sheneedstotalktoyou."

Giving him a strong, hard glare, the girl angrily freed herself of the boy's fingers before looking up to the cold gray eyes of the assassin cross.

"What do you want?" He asked for the third time, his cool, fluid voice brimming with irritation.

The girl found herself lost in the man's beautiful face. It was strong and angular with a straight, tall nose that suggests a good structure of bones underneath his smooth, dark skin. His firm mouth that is set in a permanent, disapproving line gave him a no-nonsense, brooding air that only added to his appeal. The wind was gently tousling his short indigo hair. And his eyes…

His eyes were now gone, replaced by a thick mass of dark hair.

Shanti blinked. She was now staring at Janus' back as the man continued walking down the alley.

"What are you, nuts!" Dryden exclaimed, shaking the girl. "You let him get away!"

But the girl merely sighed, a small, dreamy smile on her lips. "He's… gorgeous…"

"Who?" Dryden let go of the girl's arms and looked at her incredulously. He followed Shanti's gaze, but the assassin cross was nowhere in sight. "Janus?" He snorted, looking back at the love-struck girl. "He's nothing but a walking block of ice. I don't think he's ever said three sentences to anyone. Except perhaps Mother Elise. And he never smiles. His eyes are too small. And his hair! He's probably never even used a comb in his life."

"I don't care," was the distant reply.

Shanti's sudden fascination with the man that creeps the hell out of him both baffled and annoyed the merchant. The girl barely gave him a second glance the first time they met, yet for some reason this man, who does not even qualify as attractive in Dryden's standards, managed to catch her fancy.

_Did somebody change my face while I was sleeping last night? Or maybe I've suddenly grown large pimples during the day?_ He touched his face self-consciously. _Doesn't feel bumpy to me._

"I can't believe I've wasted a couple of perfectly productive hours for nothing. Not to mention that blue gem Father Manuel used for the warp." Dryden muttered, still feeling disgruntled. He tried to catch his reflection on a passing Knight's shiny chain mail. "Weren't you supposed to ask Janus something important?"

The girl gasped, snapping back to reality. "Shit!" She ran ahead, her head turning left and right. "Where'd he go?"

"Beats me. _You_ were the one who let him go." His smug grin was back. Seeing the girl on the verge of panic just gives him so much pleasure. He walked over to his cart and reached for the handles. "My job here's done. Father Manuel wanted me to lead you to Janus. That's what I just did. Goodbye." He started to leave.

"Wait!" Shanti cried. "You can't just leave me here! He's gone!"

"Not my fault."

The girl ran back and clutched Dryden's wooden cart with both her hands, preventing the merchant to walk any further. "You can't just leave me here!"

"I can't see why not." Dryden turned to face her, clearly relishing the unexpected plea of the spirited girl.

"I can't even talk to him!" Shanti continued, talking more to herself than with Dryden. Then her green orbs met the merchant's blue ones. She noticed the boy's gloating look but ignored it, an idea suddenly flashing through her brain. She let go of his cart and slowly sauntered towards Dryden, her eyes steadily trained on the merchant. Bounding suddenly like an Anacondaq in its kill, she seized the boy's arms in a death grip.

"Hey, down, girl! You don't have to throw yourself at me!"

"You'll find him and talk to him for me!"

The two spoke at the same time: the boy with pleased arrogance, the girl with fierce determination.

Shanti's face distorted to a look of utter disgust but her hands remained firmly on the boy's arms.

"Why on Midgard would I do that?" Dryden's countenance mirrored a similar frown. He felt his hand grew numb as the girl's grip tightened, impeding the circulation of his blood.

Shanti's beautiful emerald eyes burned with intense fervor. "Because I said so."

The girl was dead serious.

"Was that supposed to be a threat?" The merchant's eyebrows shot up. His scowl melted into a playful grin. "Fine, I'll make you a deal," he intoned, prying the girl's fingers off his arms with difficulty. "I'll do what you want. I'll find Janus and tell him you're looking for Mother Elise, yadda yadda yadda. But on one condition."

Shanti sighed and crossed her arms across her chest. "What?"

"You'll go out on a date with me."

The girl instinctively parted her lips to say "In your dreams!" but stopped short. She closed her mouth and instead thoughtfully chewed on the inner part of her cheeks.

"Fine," she said finally. "One date. And you'll do everything I tell you to."

A slight frown creased the boy's forehead. "Everything?"

"Everything." A mischievous smile played on Shanti's lips. She held out her hand.

Dryden narrowed his eyes but reached out to shake the girl's hand nonetheless. "Deal."

"Now then, doggie-boy, where's Janus?"

-o0o-

"I was wondering when you'd come."

An old, cheerful voice greeted him the moment he stepped into the small pub. The place was almost empty, save for a couple of middle-aged blacksmiths on one table and a young rogue slumped on the bar, obviously drunk. Patty's Place has never been one of the popular restaurants in Morroc City. The old wooden structure was located in an obscure alley on the one of the seedier parts of the town, sandwiched in between a barbershop and a forge. This alone may be enough to explain their poor number of diners; and the fact that it was maintained by an old blind widow and her young granddaughter did not do the dilapidated tavern any good either.

Janus sat down on one of the wooden stools and propped his arms on the bar. He looked down at the small, wrinkled woman ambling slowly towards him. Her thick silver hair was wound up in a tight bun on her nape. Her eyes, once sparkling sea blue in color, were now nothing more than a cloudy light gray. Deep skin folds lined her face. Patches of dark pigmentations could be seen on her dry skin. A small hump protruded from her spine. Her fingers, bent and knotted, reflected the years of toil and hardship the woman endured patiently for around eighty or so years.

"Where's Kali?" The assassin cross silently surveyed the room, looking for the young girl.

A soft smile spread on the woman's withered lips. "In the Novice Academy. My little Kalimar. It's her first day. I hope everything goes well."

"You're alone." His brows furrowed.

"Oh, but fret not," the old woman just shook her head. "I am never alone, dear boy. Never alone." She pushed a small saucer towards Janus then placed a tall glass of ice water beside it. "She was here earlier. She asked me to prepare this for you."

The delicious aroma of the picky soup filled Janus' nostrils. Old Patty's culinary gift was made apparent by her delectable cuisine, though her place may suggest otherwise. The assassin cross picked up his spoon and started eating.

"She came here about two hours ago," Patty continued, sitting comfortably behind the counter. "Her soul was restless. I can always tell. She told me you were coming but she didn't know when. I told her you were coming today. I think that calmed her a little."

"She's going to Nifflheim."

The old woman nodded. "So she told me. I told her that city holds more than spirits and demons. Its fog alone has the ability to drain one of all things good and happy. There is a reason why no one could ever map out its exact location. One could enter the City of the Dead and live. But never to tell the tale. For the whispers of the Dead were never meant for the ears of the Living. She brings with her the Fire of a High Being, true. But I am not convinced it is enough to light your way through the dark roads of the city."

Janus placed his spoon down, gazing at the empty bowl. "You've been there."

She closed her sightless eyes and sighed the sigh of someone who has lived too long. "In a dream. When the world was young and I was but a foolish Knight."

The man's eyes shifted to the old woman behind the counter. "I thought you were an Alchemist?"

"I am old, boy," Patty chuckled. "I have been a lot of things." She stood up and began clearing the table. "But go. She is expecting you."

The assassin cross reached inside one his belt pockets and produced a pair of thick, woolen gloves and a bottle of liniment. He gently took the woman's weathered hands and placed the gloves and bottle on her palm, his lithe fingers tenderly guiding Patty's gnarled ones around the items.

"Cold weather's coming. You'll need these."

His low voice was as cool and indifferent as ever. But his touch conveyed the warmth his voice and manner could not express. The old woman smiled and understood.

Janus set a few bills down on the table, stood up, and left without another word.

-o0o-

If looks could only kill, Shanti knew she would have been dead by now.

_Not only dead. Ripped and torn to pieces._

They were sitting near Morroc's South Gate. Ordinarily, a steady stream of travelers passing by the gate filled the road. But at that moment, the traffic was noticeably heavier. This was due to a number of girls clustered around the street, all gazing adoringly at the boy beside her. And when they're having a break from ogling at Dryden, they'd turn to glower at the exasperated girl beside him, as if cursing her into oblivion.

The boy, apparently used to the swarm of girls following him, simply sat there looking cool as a cucumber. He'd run his hands through his sun-bleached hair and smile at their direction every once in a while. Of course, this would trigger spontaneous swooning from the girls. Not to mention stimulate Shanti's gag reflex. The plain act of sitting still exhausted almost all her energy. How she longed to draw her weapon from under her cloak and strike every single ogling girl dead, making certain the boy of their dreams receive her best and deadliest attack yet. But Shanti kept her ground, summoning every last ounce of patience left in her body.

"Don't you feel lucky?" the merchant drawled, pleased that he still possessed his good looks despite Shanti's apparent ignorance of it. "Any of those girls would do anything just to be in your second-hand shoes right now."

Shanti closed her eyes and counted one to ten before answering. "I feel like an idiot, that's what I feel. Are you sure Janus is going to pass here? What if he decided to use Kafra Corp.'s teleporting service?"

"He won't."

Dryden stretched his arm and was about to place it around the girl's shoulders when Shanti finally snapped. She jumped up and held her pointer finger out in front of the boy.

"One finger. Put one finger on top of my skin and I swear I'm gonna kill you," she growled menacingly.

The merchant's hands shot up in surrender. "Fine, fine. You can stand there and threaten me all you want, but I just want to let you know that Janus just walked past the South Gate."

Shanti narrowed her eyes. "If this is some attempt to--"

"It's not," he cut her in mid sentence. "Turn around and see for yourself."

She tilted her head sideways and caught a glimpse of the indigo hair before it vanished behind the gate.

"Well what the hell are you waiting for?" she demanded, grabbing the boy's arm and practically thrusting him forward. "Quick! Before he disappears again!"

"Okay already!" He grabbed his cart with his right hand, his left serving as his shield as he ran against the flow of the crowd.

"What have I gotten myself into?" he muttered to himself as he neared the gate, Shanti right at his heels. "This has got to be my worst deal yet."

His light blue eyes scanned the area around the gate. He caught sight of the assassin cross's tattered uniform on his far right.

"Janus!"

The man's sharp ears heard his scream. He paused and looked back. Upon recognizing the owner of the voice, Janus frowned and continued to walk away.

"Hey, wait up!" Dryden gripped his cart with both his hands and started to run after the assassin cross.

"I'm busy," he declared the moment the merchant caught up with him. "What do you want?"

"Sha…Shanti…" the boy wheezed, pointing at the girl trying to catch up with them. "She's…looking for…Mother Elise…"

"She's on a mission." Janus started to walk away again.

"Wait!" Dryden called out, finally recovering from his run. "We know. She needs to get to Nifflheim too."

The assassin cross stopped and scrutinized the black-cloaked girl. Shanti suddenly grew stiff, her intense green eyes once again lost in Janus' gray orbs. The two stood still, gazing at each other, for what seemed like eternity. Finally, the assassin cross broke off the staring contest, turning his attention back to the merchant still without blinking.

Once Janus shifted his enigmatic gaze, Shanti's knees suddenly gave up on her. She slumped on the sand, as if it was the man's eyes that were keeping her standing upright.

Janus did not even look back at her. "She won't last a second inside."

Dryden glanced at Shanti, wondering if her crimson cheeks were because of the run or out of embarrassment, or maybe infuriation. "Can't you at least take her to Mother Elise?"

"I'm not a babysitter."

Dryden was about to reply when the girl finally found her voice. And her spunk.

"I'm not a baby." Shanti declared in a clear, defiant tone. She stood up and walked over to face the assassin cross. She met his unwavering gaze evenly. Keeping her eyes trained on Janus, she silently unclasped the cloak covering her entire body. With a soft swoosh, the black cloth fell to her ankles and rested on the hot desert sand.

Dryden's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets, his jaw dropping to his feet.

"You…you're…"

-tbc-


	4. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

_A little girl of about six or seven, with short dark brown hair and intense green eyes stood under the rain, holding her palm face up. She watched as the large drops approach her outstretched hand, instantaneously breaking into smaller droplets the moment it hit her palm. _

_**CRACK!**_

_A streak of light snaked through the dark clouds. It was followed shortly by thunder sounding like a low, guttural groan of an unseen giant. Slowly, she diverted her eyes from her hand and examined the heavens. A gust of wind whipped the girl's beautiful face. She did not seem to mind the storm; in fact she reveled in it._

"_It's raining." _

_The girl tilted her head towards the direction of the voice. A man in his early forties was standing beside her, his wet and thinning bright red hair sticking to his large forehead. The fox's fur that enveloped his neck was already soaked by the rain. His lower arms were wrapped with a gold and silver striped fabric that floated with the wind behind his back. An ornate, bejeweled staff hung from the belt on his waist. _

"_Why?" the girl asked, her vivid emerald eyes reverting to gaze innocently at the man's chocolate brown eyes._

_With a small smile, the professor turned to face the child. "Why do you think?"_

_She turned her attention back to the gloomy sky. "My mama told me thunder and lightning are what happens when Thor swings his hammer. She told me that when it's raining, it means that Thor is swinging his hammer."_

_The professor nodded his head. "That is what your mama thinks. What about you? Why do you think it rains?"_

_Her eyes traveled back to her still-outstretched palm. She remained silent, watching the raindrops steadily beating against her hand. "Because of all the water," she said finally. "It makes the clouds so heavy and sad."_

_A look of curious fascination passed the man's face. "What made you say that?"_

_The girl lowered her hand to her sides. She continued to stare on the ground, digging her bare toes into the soft, wet earth. "Because when it's sunny, everything's cheerful and light. But right before it rains, the air around me feels weird. Almost like I'm surrounded by water, but I'm not. And when I look up at the clouds, they've turned gray and heavy and sad. And once all the water is gone from the air, it becomes sunny once again."_

_As if on cue, the downpour started easing up and several flimsy rays from the sun started to peek from the clouds. _

"_See?" The girl tugged on the man's silver and gold arm-dress. "Now smell it," she urged him. "The air now smells like the ground because the soil's got all the water now."_

_An impressed smile lighted the professor's face. He knelt down and faced the girl squarely. "What is your name?"_

"_Shanti."_

"_Hello, Shanti. My name is Noah." The man offered his hand. _

_After a slight hesitation, the girl shook it. "Hi, Noah." _

"_Would you like to learn more about water and air, even fire?" Noah asked, giving the girl an encouraging smile. "We can control it, you know. Manipulate the elements. I can teach you how. Are you willing to learn?"_

_Little Shanti's eyes widened. "You mean I could swing my own hammer to make the water fill the air?"_

_The man laughed. "I don't know about hammers, but I could lend you a staff." His tone became solemn, but his dark brown eyes twinkled with excitement and delight. He leaned closer and lowered his voice, as if telling the girl a big and important secret. "I can teach you how to make ice, and even fire, fall from the sky. And more importantly, why we could do such things. But you'll have to promise me two things."_

"_What?" she whispered back._

_This time, the professor's eyes finally became serious. "Don't be afraid to ask questions. And don't be afraid to look for the answers to your questions."_

_Shanti's clear green eyes clouded with puzzlement. _

"_It is the only way one can learn." Noah gazed deep into her eyes for a long while. Then he stood up and placed his hands behind his back, speaking louder and with great authority. "You see, Shanti, every important discovery began with a question. Every question has an answer. It may take years, even lifetimes, to determine the right answer. Some may not even find the answers at all. But the search for the Truth is a noble and worthy conquest. Don't be afraid to ask questions. For these same questions, however trivial or insignificant some of it may seem, pave the way to the Truth." He turned to the girl and smiled again, the seriousness starting to evaporate from his voice. "And you know what they say. The Truth shall set you free."_

_It finally stopped raining. The sun's mighty rays overcame the dark clouds, showering the earth with its exuberant golden beams. The leaves of the trees, the blades of the grass, even the ground itself seemed to glow like thousands of precious stones as the droplets of water reflected the sunlight. Everything was sparkling clean, as if the entire land just had a nice long bath. _

_The girl frowned. "I never understood what that means."_

_The man's laughter rang through the quiet field. "You still have a long way to go, little Shanti. But don't you worry. You'll get there soon enough."_

-o0o-

"You…you're…you're a _professor_!"

Shanti sighed dejectedly. She did not want to shed her cover so early in her journey. It would have been a lot easier if she was able to maintain her anonymity. But it could not be helped. Janus was her connection to Mother Elise. She needed to prove to him that she is not somebody he could simply ignore. Despite the soft blush creeping to her cheeks, she maintained a steady eye on the assassin cross as he surveyed her from head to foot and back again.

The man remained silent, his sharp gray eyes displaying no emotion whatsoever at the girl's sudden revelation. The same odd feeling that he felt earlier when he first saw Shanti washed over him once again. Something just wasn't right.

"You're already a professor and _still_ you got scammed!"

Shanti's left eye did a rather violent twitch at the insult. _Leave it to the bastard to ruin a perfectly intense moment._

"You may look like a professor but you sure act and sound like a novice!"

"Can't you shut the fuck up even for just one freaking second!" She simply could not ignore the extremely irritating merchant any longer. "What is wrong with you!"

"Wrong with me?" the merchant countered. "Don't you mean what's wrong with _you_? Don't you know that it's against the law to dress above your rank? You can't possibly expect us to believe that you're a professor! What are you, like fifteen or something?"

"Seventeen," she snapped back. She shook her head, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. "Why am I even talking to you?"

She turned to look at the assassin cross watching their exchange with a bored and slightly irritated expression. "Look. I need to talk to Mother Elise. I need to go to Nifflheim with her. She's on her way there now because of me."

Her voice cracked a bit somewhere around the last couple of sentences, but yes. She had finally managed to talk to the assassin cross.

A mild look of interest flickered past Janus' stoic face. He folded his arms on his chest and inclined his head lightly on one side.

It was an indication for the girl to continue. She took in a deep breath.

"My name is Shanti. Until a about a month ago, I was under the tutelage of Professor Noah Burktenhower. Although you may never have heard of him, he is actually one of the more esteemed professors of the Schwartzwald Republic. Three months ago, he and several of his colleagues went off to study and conduct a research regarding the fabled Tree of Yggdrasil somewhere near the hidden jungles of Umbala. I was supposed to go with them but he persuaded me to stay in Juno instead since I was due to graduate from the Sage Academy."

At this, she shot Dryden a sardonic look. The merchant merely narrowed his eyes suspiciously back.

"Anyway," she continued, gathering her black cloak from her feet and swinging it around her shoulders. "To say that their quest was dangerous is an understatement. But we all knew the importance of their study. Their theories, if proven to be correct, will make a huge impact not only to the Wizarding community, but the whole of Midgard as well."

She paused, her mentor's passionate face flashing momentarily before her eyes.

_Will I ever see those radiant chocolate brown eyes again?_

"We knew the chances of their not coming back alive was high. _He_ knew. That's why he made me promise that if he does not return within three month's time, I must go with whomever the Republic sends out to rescue them, or rather, salvage what is left of them. I've heard of Mother Elise Gatmaine. It wasI who specifically mentioned for her to be part of the rescue team. Professor Noah entrusted to me his biggest and most ambitious work ever. I have no intention of failing him."

Silence.

Shanti looked at the assassin cross. A slight frown creased his forehead. He was obviously considering the girl's story. She turned to the amazingly quiet merchant. Dryden was also frowning, but what surprised the girl more was the reluctant acceptance in his perfectly blue eyes. There was no trace of the previous arrogant incredulity there now. There was a slight wariness still, but other than that, the boy apparently bought her tale—hook, line and sinker.

"It's not for me to decide," the cool, fluid voice of the assassin cross slashed through her reverie. "Your going inside Nifflheim. You can follow me if you want. But I am not going to wait for you."

Janus was about to walk away when Dryden suddenly called out, "Wait!" When the man turned back, he continued. "We can't possibly keep up with you. You're too fast. You'll loose us within thirty seconds."

"Deal with it," Janus simply shrugged.

"Right. Well, I've got a couple of blue gems around here somewhere, and I know several acolytes back there in the city. We could simply have one of them warp us to Comodo and we'll wait for Mother Elise there."

"I don't do warps."

"Oh-kaay. How about you do it the old-fashioned way, while we get ourselves warped to Comodo, and we'll meet there tomorrow?"

"Fine."

Shanti was about to interject when the assassin cross swiftly jumped high in the air, sending grains of sand hurling towards the two. Once their vision cleared, Janus was nowhere in sight.

"WAIT!"

But the girl's scream was lost in the large desert. "Where will we meet?" she asked anyway, her shoulders slumped dejectedly.

"Don't worry about it," the merchant told her, making his way back to the city. "They'll find us."

The girl's eyebrows immediately went up. "Us?"

Dryden did not even look back at her. "Yeah. As far as I know, you don't even have one zeny in your pockets. You could try to follow Janus out there. I doubt you'll catch up with him though. So you could come with me and have one of my acolyte friends warp us to Comodo and we'll meet with Mother Elise there. Or you could trek the wide desert under the hot sun all by yourself. Your choice."

With clenched teeth and fists, the girl finally trudged behind him. "Why are you doing this?"

The girl asked it in an incensed tone, but the merchant, without skipping a beat, took it as grateful. "You're welcome. It's a gentleman's duty to save a lady in distress. Besides, we have a date, remember? And I couldn't think of a more perfect place of spending it than in the romantic beaches of Comodo!"

The girl froze in her tracks.

_Holy shit._

-o0o-

"Holy Light!"

Blinding white light emanated from the seal's chest. Its pained howl echoed through the beach.

The priestess did not even wait for the light to evaporate. She raised her hand before her, holding her palm towards the beast. She closed her eyes, her mind mapping out the seal's body a few feet in front of her. Once she had found its center, she focused all her spiritual energy into it. Her long chestnut hair floated lightly around her serene face as she prepared for another round of her spiritual attack.

"Holy Light!"

With another long, mournful howl, the animal exploded into large glistening beams of powerful white light.

Elise kept her eyes closed as she felt the warm glow of her attack slowly fade away. She opened her hazel eyes and sighed. That was only her third consecutive fur seal and she felt drained. Although highly skilled for Undead combat, the priestess was never much of fighter when it came to living monsters, especially the big ones. She wiped the beads of sweat building on her temples with the back of her hand. She was about to start walking again when she felt a movement behind her.

Instead of the priestess' midsection, the mobster's sandaled foot only hit empty air.

Elise landed a few feet away from the demi-human, a little out of breath. With an annoyed "Tse!" she once again took on her offensive stance. She knew she could not kill the mobster with only one shot, but she'd take a crack at it anyway. She was starting to summon what little energy she had left when the monster's crazed expression suddenly changed. Its mouth jerked open, sputtering a dark greenish, viscous liquid on the ground. It staggered forward, gasping for its one final breath before landing on the sand with a dull thud. The priestess watched its body gradually disintegrate into dust until she could no longer distinguish the monster remains from the sand.

"You're late," she murmured, turning her back from her savior to gaze at the setting sun. The deep blue crystal clear waters shimmered dazzlingly as it reflected the sun's dying rays. Pastel shades of pink, blue, violet and yellow tinted the rapidly darkening sky.

Janus slid his Haedonggum back into its sheath. "I got held back earlier. By one of your friends, actually."

"Which one?" The priestess closed her eyes, savoring the cool ocean breeze that was subtly caressing her face. She took in a long, deep breath, held it for around three seconds, then parted her lips slightly and exhaled.

"The vain one."

"Dryden." She opened her eyes, chuckling softly. "But it can't be him. He'd rather die than talk to you." She took off her shoes and walked closer to where the sea kissed the sand. "Besides, what would the two of you chat about? Hair gel?" She snickered. "Do you even know what a hair gel is?"

The assassin cross trailed behind her. "We didn't really talk much. It was actually his girlfriend who's a bit interesting."

"You found a girl interesting? Good for you, Jay!" she teased him with a quiet laugh. She stopped beside a large boulder and sat on it. She glanced mischievously at the man before looking back at the setting sun.

"Actually, it was more of what she said that I found interesting." Janus stood behind her, his arms folded across his chest, a small frown on his face.

"Well, what did she say?"

"That she's Burktenhower's apprentice and she's going with us inside Nifflheim."

The priestess' forehead wrinkled in a grimace. "It'll already be quite a handful looking for that party and fighting off demons at the same time. I don't think we can afford to have an additional casualty."

Janus shrugged. "You can tell her that tomorrow. You're supposed to meet with them in Comodo."

"Fine." She stood up from the boulder and stretched her arms. She walked a couple of steps then allowed herself to fall backwards to the soft sand, her arms extended at her sides as if embracing the heavens.

The sky now took on a much deeper shade of blue. The two watched silently as the world was slowly being taken over by the shadows; the assassin cross standing with his folded arms and the priestess lying on the beach, her arms spread out. They saw the moon rise into full view, larger than it had the right to be, bathing the entire land with its ephemeral silvery glow.

"I don't trust her," Janus declared quietly, sitting down on the warm sand. He faced the land instead of the sea, resting his back on the huge rock.

"You don't trust anybody," she reminded him with a smile.

"Hmp."

"I feel more relaxed now that you're here," her soft voice broke the silence after several hours.

Janus looked at her from the corner of his eyes. She had her eyes closed, the cool breeze gently stroking wisps of her chestnut brown hair. Luminous moonbeams and dark shadows played across her peaceful face. Oh, how he longed to run his fingers along the soft contours of her face!

"Goodnight, Janus."

The assassin cross leaned his head back against the boulder, diverting his eyes to the heavens. The stars were so big and bright.

"Goodnight."

-tbc-


	5. Chapter Four

**Author's Notes:** Well, what do you know… It seems that I was already finished with this chap before I dropped the fic, so here you go, Anonymoussi. xD

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Shanti stared at her roasted thara frog, refusing to look at the sparkling blue eyes that were no doubt taunting her. The conversation earlier replayed in her mind, but she could not quite grasp the truth just yet.

They were dining in Comodo's most expensive restaurant. It was located right on top of the sea and was held together by large wooden planks accessible only through a maze of wooden bridges that did not even have railings. If, for some reason, the platform underneath her lavish seat suddenly decides to collapse, she would instantly be sent hurling some several hundred feet under the murky, ice-cold water. And she did not know how to swim.

But these early fears were quickly drowned by bigger, more disturbing thoughts.

A steady stream of chatter filled the exotic restaurant, but the girl could hear nothing but the conversation that took place a few minutes ago between her and the merchant.

"_So you were under Noah Burktenhower, huh?"_

"_I don't expect someone like you to know him."_

"_Oh, but I do. He was the one who proposed the concept of atom, right?"_

_A snort. "You've been listening in on people above your rank. Isn't there some outrageous law against that?"_

"_I wasn't 'listening in' for your information. I actually read one of his scrolls."_

_Another snort. "Right."_

"_You don't believe me? You don't think a simple merchant like me could actually understand that all elements are made up of minute particles invisible to the naked eye that your mentor dubbed as 'atom'? And that these 'atoms' can be controlled and manipulated? That nature was its first handler, as evidenced by the mere cycle of the rain, wherein water particles are absorbed into the atmosphere, thus forming what we see as clouds? That once these particles become so dense that the atmosphere could not hold them in place anymore, they revert to their original state, which is water, by form of the rain? That humans have these same 'atoms' innate to them? And that by making use of these 'atoms' that composes our mind, humans, specifically the Wizardfolk, could call forth other types of 'atoms' that make up the elements, thereby manipulating these elements as they deem suitable? And that Burktenhower believes that these same 'atoms' make up our souls--"_

"_Where did you get all of these?!"_

"_My brother's a High Wizard. His house is filled with scrolls. I find Noah Burktenhower's more enlightening than the rest."_

"_What's his name?"_

"_Doesn't matter. He's already dead. He died last year, just when Burktenhower decided to keep his scrolls to himself. I inherited his house when he died. That's when I got acquainted with your master through his writings."_

"_You were able to read his works?"_

"_It **was** kinda hard to read at first, with all the symbols and formulas and calculations and stuff. But once you got the hang of it, it's kinda cool. I like the way he thinks."_

"_And you actually **understood** what was written in the scrolls?"_

"_You want to me to recite and explain his other theories as well?"_

"_Er. No."_

It was at this point in the conversation that Shanti started to stare at her food, completely flabbergasted at the boy's unbelievable yet apparent intellect.

_But he's just a merchant! Even some of my classmates in the Academy still could not understand what Noah was talking about! And here he is, explaining my professor's concepts like it's as plain as day!_

"Still couldn't believe that a guy as rich and handsome as me could have brains as well?"

Her eyes continued to bore through her untouched roasted thara frog. She simply will _not_ meet his condescending eyes!

"Why don't you just admit it," he continued, taking a sip from the restaurant's ornate, handcrafted wine glass. "I'm the man of your dreams."

That snapped her back to her old self. "Replace that last word with nightmares and you're right on track." She pushed her plate back, preparing to leave. "You know what, I'm not hungry. I'm going to look for Janus and Mother Elise instead."

Dryden managed to grab hold of her hand before she was able to fully stand up. "Hey. We had a deal remember?" the merchant hissed. He narrowed his eyes threateningly. "This date is your payment for my services. And I _will_ receive my full payment."

"Or I could cast a simple Fire Bolt on you," Shanti returned evenly through clenched teeth. "With your extensive knowledge of Wizardry, I'm sure you know how the basic spell works. Now let go of my hand."

The two glared at each other for a full two minutes. It was Dryden who was the first to back up. He let go of the girl's hand, slamming his fists instead on the immaculate tabletop.

"Is it because I'm only a merchant and you're already a professor?" His voice became noticeably louder. Several diners near them started looking at their direction. "Is it my fault that I'm a slow learner? To Nifflheim with what the others think! I _know_ you don't think I'm such a loser! I love you, sweetie-poo!! Please, please tell me you still love me too! Sweetie-poo?"

Dryden's face crumpled in a mixture of anger, hurt, grief and desperation. Real tears were welling up in his sad, beseeching azure eyes. He clutched at his left breast for additional effect.

Dumbstruck at the merchant's sudden, out-of-nowhere outburst, the girl simply gave him a blank stare.

_**Sweetie-poo?!** What on Midgard is this lunatic talking about?! He's gone completely insane!_

"Sweetie-poo?" Dryden reached out for her with his trembling fingers. "Tell me you love me…I can't…I just can't bear the thought of losing you…I'd die, sweetie-poo… Don't leave me…please…"

With a jerk, Shanti backed impulsively away from the boy. She bumped on an empty chair behind her, knocking her back to reality. She finally noticed the eerie silence. Her confused vivid eyes swept the room. Every single person inside was staring at them--some with amusement, others with irritation. But most were looking right at her with their disapproving, judgmental eyes. Blood rushed to her cheeks. Her eyes reverted to meet the boy's beautiful blue ones. She finally spotted an evil glint from the pleading orbs.

Cursing herself silently, the girl forced herself to smile. "Of course I won't," she answered just as loud, her voice shaking. She sat back down again and waited for the noise level within the room to normalize. Making sure that nobody's looking at her, she leaned forward and glowered at the merchant.

"You filthy, deceitful, manipulative son of a--"

Dryden also leaned forward, cutting her in midsentence. "Look, you promised me a date. Would it really kill you to act like a normal girl? It's just one date, Shanti. Can't you at least try to enjoy it?" His tone was serious and his eyes were earnest. "Besides, Janus said they'll be meeting us tomorrow. They're probably still on their way here. Relax, Shanti. Have a bit of fun in the meantime."

The girl stopped short, detecting his sudden change of atmosphere. She bit her lip, feeling a little bit ashamed of herself though she would never admit it.

"Fine." She leaned back and started poking the frog on her plate.

"You should try it," Dryden encouraged her, downing a mouthful himself. "It's actually good. Tastes a lot like peco peco meat if you ask me. Even better. It's one of Comodo's specialties."

"It's a frog," she told him flatly, as if he did not already know that fact.

"So?" he replied with a shrug. "Pecos are birds. Phens are fishes. And still you eat them. What's the difference?"

"It's a frog," she repeated, jabbing the exotic fine cuisine extra hard. "_That's_ the difference."

Dryden raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought professors love trying out new and challenging ideas. Whatever happened to experimentation?"

"There's a huge difference between conducting experiments and being part of the experiment. And that's beyond the point." She met Dryden's laughing eyes. Oh, how she hate those eyes!

She rolled her own green ones and sighed. "Fine. One bite." She stabbed a small piece of meat away with her fork then lifted it towards her lips. She crinkled her nose before finally putting it inside her mouth. She chewed it slowly several times before swallowing.

He looked at her expectantly. "Well?"

"It tastes…like…"

"Say it… say it…" He prompted her with his hands.

She rolled her eyes again. "Peco."

"There! That wasn't so hard, was it?" he grinned widely. "Occasional agreement with me won't kill you after all."

The girl shook her head with an exasperated sigh but there was a little smile tugging on the corners of her mouth nonetheless.

Dryden looked at her thoughtfully. "You've been here in Comodo before, right?"

"Why?" Shanti took another forkful of frog and raised it to her lips, shooting the merchant a suspicious look.

"Then you know _The Golden Gates_?"

"The casino?"

The merchant gave her a pregnant smile. "I'm sure brilliant professors like you win all the time, am I right?"

Shanti knew where the conversation was heading and she did not like it. "I am not, I repeat, NOT going in there."

"Hey, whatever happened to your having fun with me tonight?" Dryden asked good-naturedly. "Or maybe you're just scared you might, Odin forbid, loose to _me_?"

Shanti studied the blond boy for a moment. The air around him now felt so friendly and open. It was so different from the first impression the merchant made on her in Prontera earlier that day. _He seems different… Is this really the same guy? Have I been bitching on someone totally decent?_

Dryden continued. "Besides, Mother Elise knows that I always stay in _The Golden Gates_ whenever I'm here. She'll be looking for us there tomorrow for sure."

The girl sighed. "Fine. But I'm not playing. I don't even have any money, remember?"

"Money," Dryden told her, a wide grin spreading across his handsome face. "Is never a problem."

The arrogance that Shanti thought only came from her hallucinations started to reverberate from him once again. She shook her head, her face falling onto her palms.

_This is going to be one very long night._

-o0o-

"Hahah!" Shanti screeched, pumping her fists in the air. "Oh, yeah! Come to mama, baby!"

Hundreds of silver coins flooded out of the slot machine. The exuberant girl gathered all of it on her black cloak that now served as a huge coin purse with all her winnings.

Dryden was both amazed and impressed when Shanti had her first win on the slot machine, crediting it to 'Beginner's Luck'. But that was three slot machines and a couple of poker tables ago. Now, he was nothing but bored and irritated. This was obviously no 'Beginner's Luck'. To his ultimate dismay, his forecast earlier proved accurate: apparently this brilliant professor wins all the time.

"Where to next?" Shanti grinned eagerly as she gathered the corners of her cloak and dragged it towards the merchant. "How about…what's it called? Black Jack? How do you play that one?"

He shrugged indifferently. "No idea. Let's go get those cashed out." He gave a wide yawn. "I'm tired."

"No way!" the girl protested. "I'm on my winning streak here! I can't leave now!"

The merchant reached for his cart. "Fine. But I'm out. Don't blame me if Mother Elise doesn't find you, though."

Shanti's jubilant, carefree spirit went out all of a sudden, the mention of the priestess's name forcing her back to reality. She sighed and her shoulders slumped. "Alright, alright. I'll cash these out."

Dryden caught the girl's muttered "Spoil sport!" as she walked past him with her heavy, token-filled cloak in tow and he couldn't help chuckling. It seemed like Shanti was finally warming up to him. He watched as the professor eagerly handed the casino employee her winnings.

The girl really was a piece of work. With her long silky dark brown hair, stunning emerald green eyes, soft creamy white skin, she looked like an expensive porcelain doll from someone's personal collection. He knew that behind the angelic face lies a gifted mind with quite a temperamental attitude. Everything about her seemed to clash, actually. He was in fact a bit intimidated with her transcendent status at such a young age. He could not believe that a girl with her face and high-leveled job could actually curse as much as she does. And most of all, he was astounded by the fact the she rejected him.

She rejected _him_! Dryden! The object of fantasy of almost half the girls in Midgard! Guys envy him! Parents love him! He was perfect! She did admit the he was cute, didn't she? So why, oh why did she reject him? He will not let her go until he discovers the answer.

Shanti started walking back towards him, carrying a small briefcase, her grin reaching her ears. She started a little dance, chanting "I'm rich, I'm rich, I'm really, really rich!" in a singsong voice. Oh, what horrible things money could do!

Dryden couldn't help but laugh as he followed the euphoric girl out of the casino. "Steve looked like he was all ready to break his slot machines for giving you all those tokens. A couple more days with you in there and he's bound to go bankrupt!"

"Steve?" Shanti stopped walking and looked back at the huge, two-story structure with blinking lights that spelled 'The Golden Gates of Heaven'. For the last three hours, it _was_ heaven for the zeniless girl.

"The owner. The tall thin man in the red suit," said Dryden, continuing on to the beach.

Shanti gazed at his back for a moment before following him. "You just know everyone, don't you?"

"Just the big shots," he replied, giving her a smug grin. "Besides, I'm a merchant. It's all part of the job description."

"Whatever."

"The stars are much bigger here than in the cities don't you think?" Dryden remarked with a yawn. He sat down on the soft warm sand and looked at the girl behind him. "I wonder, what did the great Noah Burktenhower have to say about them?"

Shanti remained silent for a while. Then in a whisper, "That one day, I'll be able to reach them."

Dryden lay on his back, his hands cradling the back of his neck. He gazed at Shanti sleepily.

"I'm sure you will."

-tbc-


End file.
